the one i want to come home to
by words end here
Summary: Nate/Blair oneshot, companion piece to "No matter where I go, I always stumble home to you" Nate finds himself at Blair's door, and maybe they'll both find themselves.


**Told you the companion piece was coming soon (: ! Review and enjoy!**

--

_Echoes and silence, patience and grace,  
all of these moments I'll never replace  
No fear of my heart, no absence of faith  
and all I want is to be home_

Foo Fighters, Home.

--

"Can I come in, Eleanor?" you ask cautiously. Even when there's no need to be. But you want to be polite. You never really went all out to please Eleanor or Harold, but you always seeked their approval. It was always important to you. You didn't want Blair's parents to disapprove of you or deny what you have with their daughter. And they didn't, either. Some relationships are just undeniable.

She smiles like the polite hostess she is and comments, "Of course Nate. She's always glad to see you." She adds sweetly. You smile again at her in appreciation. If only these parents knew what their kids do when they are at the charity function or benefit ball. You make your way to room you've came to a thousand times before and knock. It's late- about eleven o'clock. You take two deep breaths, and knock twice on her door.

She opens it quickly in a furious manner. Oh yes, she's angry. She scans over you. For a person who basically grew up with you and knows you inside out, she seems…detached.

"Come in Nate." She says.

You feel yourself blush and sputter out, "I don't even know why I'm here." Was that an eye roll from her? It doesn't matter; you adore angry, irritable Blair. She's not all roses, rainbows and smiles like every other princess of the Upper East Side. She's real. And what you feel for her is real. You don't know a lot, but you know that much. You know there's still something here, something that makes you keep coming back. Unlike Serena. She picks you up one minute and sets you back on the shelf as soon as lonely boy comes knocking on her door. Although it's usually _Serena _roaming the streets of Brooklyn looking for him, like a stray puppy.

"It's okay. I'm not doing anything anyway." She says relaxed. "What's wrong?"

See this why you love her. She cares more then anyone. Even when she pretends not too.

You sit yourself down on her bed, absorbing your surroundings. Her ten or so Audrey films scattered around the room, a collection of hair bands with bows on the side. There's lots of red clothes scattered around her room. Red the color of passion and love, right? You remember sleeping over with her when you both were young and stupid. Actually, you both still are young and stupid. You remember how, for the first time when you were both fifteen, how you kissed her for the first time when she was showing you her new Persian cat. You couldn't stop looking at her because she had this expensive red dress on and she looked beautiful. You took the cat out of her arms, set it down on her bed and grabbed her waist and pressed your lips to hers. And there was nothing wrong with that. There was nothing wrong with being with someone you completely trusted and loved. She was your best friend and you were love with her, it was as simple as that. Even though you wish you didn't love her, and you want to be angry over the fact that she doesn't show any remorse over the Chuck debacle, you still love her. And that's not going to disappear any time soon. You never really believed in the word; _loved._

"It's just my dad. He decides everything, you know?" you sigh. And you know you don't really have the right to lay anything on her, but its Blair. When you're around her it's as if all pride, pretences and planning disappears.

"Yeah, I do know." She replies. Eleanor. Harold. One day he decided to come out. One day Eleanor decided she wasn't going to fight for her marriage. You can't help but feel…anger. How could someone ever deny or hurt Blair?

"I'm sorry for what happened in Italy." You say quietly. And you know it's not your mistake to apologize for, but someone has to be there for her. And Chuck isn't. And you've been there before, when Chuck was drunk/high/having sex.

"You know what? Fuck him." She says with conviction. That's another thing; her passion. Blair never does things half heartedly, its all or nothing with her. And part of you knows Chuck's your friend, but your heart is telling you that your loyalty lies with the girl right in front of you. And before you have time to stop yourself;

"He's not good enough for you."

Taken aback, she remains silent. Because deep down, she knows she Blair fucking Waldorf, and there's only ever been one boy who has ever been good enough.

Now it's make or break time. You could go in for the kiss, but what's that going to lead too? No, Blair needs a good old fashioned gentleman and you're going to be that guy for her. At this moment, you secretly swear that if _you ever get another chance_ you won't let her go. Unable to think of a cure to solve the situation, she hugs you. You know you're smiling that huge grin and you can't help it. You just stay there for a while, holding her.

And you're fine, just here, right here in this moment. You could do this forever. You find yourself stroking that beautiful brown hair and she pulls back, giggling, exactly how she did when you were both five and you introduced yourself formally to her for the first time. You find yourself laughing too because it ridiculous. Nate plus Blair should not be this awkward.

"Hold me." She says quietly as you both lay on her bed. And your heart starts beating faster. She trusts you again.

"Okay, come here." You say in your best protective many, gruff voice. She finds her way into your arms and it's like a scene in one of those black and white films she can't get enough of. And all of a sudden, it feels like the only thing that matters is that you two are here now, together. Because Serena has Dan. Chuck has most off the Upper East Side. You don't really care; Vanessa could hook up with Carter, (what the fuck)? And you have Blair.

"Why did you come back from the Hamptons?" she questions curiously. She must have forgotten for a while. It's easy to get caught up in the moment.

"The same reason you came back from Italy." You say, not giving too much away. It's actually kind of romantic; she's here just when you happen to be there. Its fate. It has to be.

"I love you. I still do."

The words tell you everything you ever needed to hear. To your disappointment, however she doesn't follow it up with a kiss. She just stays there, frozen. Like she meant it, platonically. As friends.

Nate Archibald _just friends _with Blair Waldorf?

You pull her tighter into your body and whisper, "I always assumed that you knew I love you too," you begin, choking up. "I guess it's because you know me better than anyone…but let me say this. I wish I told you that more often when we were together. I would have done everything so differently."

With thoughts of the time you both missed out on, you let yourself drift into slumber. If you couldn't have her forever, you could have her for just this one perfect night.

--

You awake again and the alarm clock informs you that its five thirty am. Too early to go, too late to stay. You can't just lie beside her anymore, because it torturing you. The Blair-side of your body keeps humming with excitement and you want to wake her up and kiss her and declare how much you need her, but she's currently going through a lot. The last thing she needs is more trouble…or drama or anything hurting her again.

So instead, you lightly kiss her on the cheek and make your way out. But for a minute, you stop at the door and feel something bump against your chest. You roll up the left arm of your long sleeved Ralph Lauren polo shirt and it reveals a tiny golden heart.

So it wasn't just a once off on your sweater, then.

And it wasn't just a once off chance with Blair. You smile to yourself, knowing that one day; you will get another chance with her. And this time…this time, things were going to be right. You wouldn't settle for anything less. Her heart was on your sleeve without you even knowing it.

"Goodnight, sweetheart." You whisper. It won't be the last time you do that.

--

_Wish I were with you but I couldn't stay  
every direction leads me away  
Pray for tomorrow but for today  
and all I want is to be home_

--

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